#( threads.daera )

[cursebounds]

DAERA TARGARYEN walks through the halls in a quicker pace than appropriate. but few witness her passing by, and those whose gazes linger do not stop her. who would dare pull a royal's attention when she clearly has a mission? the princess bites her bottom lip; in the next breath, however, she reaches the room of CASSANA DONDARRION, and relief swells in her chest. // @oflcgends

daera pulls at her finger for a moment, discomfort flickering across her features before she corrects herself. still, she lingers at the doorway, keeping gaze on one of the few she has begun to call friend.

"i know it's months out," she begins, "but with the . . . excitement of the dragon, i think we may need to delay my nameday celebration." she offers a smile, but what little humor she tries to maintain deflates.

biting her lips again, she takes a deep breath. "do you plan to return home first? or will you be traveling directly to harrenhal?"

[cursebounds]

dull gray covers the entire sky, but no clouds weep. the fanfare of the swearing ceremony has subdued to something bitter. DAERA TARGARYEN stands beside MAELOR VELARYON upon the balcony overlooking the courtyard. it stands empty and hollow for the rest of court retreated to lick their wounds. // @solwinters

daera counts their breaths. it's the only way to keep their heart calm. a dragon. they can still hear the echoes of its roar. but the dread that settles beneath their skin doesn't involve their dreams coming true; no, what fuels her concern is vaeron. to corral the stark's dragon back into targaryen control is expected --- to do so before the realm?

the realm of dragons should be over. did vaeron learn nothing from their father?

their jaw tightens. then, a slow exhale. "i'm sorry your wedding is to be connected to this, cousin." they finally turn to face maelor, a gentle touch at his arm. "but know i will endeavor to keep the celebrations on you that day."

[cursebounds]

DAERA TARGARYEN stands at the doorway. a storm thrashing in her chest, heartbeat thundering. ALARRA STARK sits, scar fresh upon her cheek. the north sequestered; the wolf alone once more. her hand flicks at her side; her kingsguard shifts, closing the door behind her as she finally steps within the room. // @ivoryborn

the silence scorches her throat. a princess should never be speechless; they must control the quiet, wield it like the weapon it is. but no matter how she has rehearsed this moment, every word has left her body.

she should feel nothing. betrayal was always expected; daera is no naive fool, no matter how the court interprets her demeanor. but her heart has cracked. not as large as the one suffered from aethan's death, but a crack that aches nonetheless.

a slow breath. "alarra." gentle, almost hesitant. but daera doesn't cease pushing forth. "how long have you known about the dragon?"

[cursebounds]

a dance of switching partners throughout; one DAERA TARGARYEN has known through all her life. each partner following steps long enough to learn the identity of those they hold. she has yet to wish to know. and so, the music shifts, indicating change, and she then unknowingly spins into the hands of YOREN ULLER // @seahorsestars

daera settles into the rhythm of the dance, hand light as a feather on the stranger's shoulder. courteous smile, a glimmer of enjoyment in lavender eyes. every step, every shift of movement, speaks of the tutelage driven into her.

"i apologize for asking, my liege," she murmurs, "but do you mind moving a tad slower when possible? i had to lead my last two partners, and i fear my toes have suffered their lack of coordination."

[cursebounds]

DAERA TARGARYEN cannot shake the anxiety. echoes of the last gathering of houses leaves her searching in every corner, at every shadow she catches in the corner of her eyes. she cannot enjoy so much dancing at once, not like she wishes. feigning exhaustion, she settles at a table, kingsguard settled behind her. removing her shoes, she catches the eye of another. // @romanceur @tevinterra @irnsbld & open

daera offers a smile to the unexpected companion, bringing a finger to her lips. "please ignore the impropriety, would you?"

anonymity was impossible with her silver hair, not matter how it was styled. she understands the appearance of a princess shedding her heels when not out of sight. but even if exhaustion doesn't truly tug at her, she wishes to prevent any soreness should she need to run once more.

"are you enjoying the night? it's an exquisite sight, isn't it?"

[cursebounds]

among the betrothal celebrations, DAERA TARGARYEN takes two goblets and strides across the ballroom. the crowds don't part, not as they do the king, but space is given nonetheless. it takes little time to settle beside STEFFON TYRELL, smile on her face. // @solwinters

"this is a sight to behold," she says on her approach, already offering one of the goblets to the tyrell heir. "i think this is the first time i've seen a frown etched on your face more often than a smile."

his displeasure is nearly similar to that of her goodsibling. but the prince of dorne didn't quite display their bitterness as openly; still, she preferred steffon's reaction. not only because it was easier to navigate, but it felt familiar. lately, she craves that more than anything.

"will you dance with elinor tonight, or will you leave her to spin around with her new beau?"

[cursebounds]

DAERA TARGARYEN dismisses their ladies in waiting for the rest of the afternoon. a walk through the red keep's garden is for her alone; at least, until she sees LEWYS LANNISTER at the pavilion waiting for her. // @parthenopaed

"i expected to be early," daera says with a smile. they come easier, though time has yet to soften the ache of their cousin's death. returning to dorne, to those very sands that drank aethan's blood, left them ragged. the dreams foggier, the memories sharper. if they learned that the blood would come from aethan, dripping from a sword meant for them, maybe --- maybe ---

they shove the rest of the thought away. the smile stays. once they take a seat across from lewys, daera begins her recounting. "if i hadn't seen goodsibling akshay so recently, i don't think i'd be able to read their face quite as well. they didn't bite the baratheons, but it's clear they still disapprove of the situation. if the idea of this union came from anyone else on the council except the hand . . . "

they lean forward on the table, cupping chin in hand. "i'd say the idea remains a good one, my lord, in how it shapes similarly to the stark's situation with alarra."

[cursebounds]

the sun sets on the first day of celebration for the union of reach and iron islands. DAERA TARGARYEN sits on her bed as she braids her hair, gaze tracking ALARRA STARK for a few brief moments. and she wonders, always, always wonders, what the future will bring for not only herself, but for the wolf in the room. // @ivoryborn

licking her lips, daera clears her throat, patting at the empty space beside her. an offering rather than command. "what have you observed so far while here?"

it's a poor question, but daera still wields an amiable smile. "i've traveled more in the last year than i have most of my life. new sights replace old memories, and seeing how people change over time . . . "

the last of the sentence fades. somewhat purposeful, trying to pull alarra's attention. but a flicker of aethan's smile played in her vision, and grief swelled, pinching her throat, and she struggled to swallow past the lump. how would aethan have changed in the last few months? how long would her memories of him remain clear, keep breathing life into every movement? how would absence rip what she has left of him?

clearing her throat, daera ties off one braid and starts again on the other side. "are there any faces you would like to see when we break fast tomorrow?"